


How far you've come

by freddi11



Category: Cricket RPF
Genre: A Bit of Fluff, I Will Go Down With This Platonic Ship, M/M, and a bit of background writing for a certain saga of mine, another fluffball in celebration of my platonic OTP, what may or may not have happened on monday, which is my tag for those two, who knows if this didn't sort of really happen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 13:36:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17788376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freddi11/pseuds/freddi11





	How far you've come

"Are we all clear?"

Joe glances around the dressing room

Gets a slightly nervous nod from Keaton, a less tense thumbs up from Rory and an encouraging smile (which is such a rare thing that he needs to look twice to make sure he didn't imagine it) from Jimmy. And lots of determined looks.

Jos meets his eyes and smiles. _Calm down, we'll be fine._

He nods at him gratefully.

"Alright, everyone, ten minutes and then we'll start our warm-up." Joe says and gets up. _I need to be alone. For a bit at least._

"Where are you off to?" Mo asks as he wants to open the door.

"Just washing my hands." he mutters in reply.

 

Which is only part of the truth.

Joe hardly slept last night (again). Too busy coming up with all sorts of horror scenarios, of the myriad ways in which even this promising start could go wrong. Kept him up until the middle of the night.

If you add his latent frustration with his own performances (because he _knows_ he can do better), you'll get the perfect recipe for more tension than you should deal with as captain of the England Test team.

Something he can not - and will never - show to the others.

 

Joe turns a corner, ends up in a slightly less busy hallway. Leans against the wall and closes his eyes.

_No reason to freak out. It's only the third day. It's the third day and we did well in our first innings. We know we can do it. Actually. And my game plan works out okay so far. We saw it yesterday with Woody. No reason to freak out._

He presses his palms against the wall, sees - and feels - his hands shake. There's only one person he could, wants to, talk to right now. But that's not possible. He needs to deal with this on his own.

 

"Remember your pokerface, Joe." he tells himself, takes a deep breath and wants to go back, when a voice breaks through his thoughts:  "I knew it."

An affectionate, warm, kind voice - with maybe the slightest hint of amusement.

Ali.

Standing at the other end of the hallway, in a white polo shirt and jeans, watching Joe with that very special smile.

 

"I... we need to warm up." Joe mumbles as he's drawn level.

Instead of a reply, Ali simply wraps him up in a hug ( _just like I used to do for you_ ). A hand softly strokes Joe's back, tells him more than words ever could. _I know you'll do great. I'm here. I'm always with you._

Joe closes his eyes, feels himself relax. Knows his hands have stopped shaking.

"Thanks." he says quietly.

"Always. And now show what you can do, captain."

Joe salutes, even manages a grin.

And walks off back to join his team.

 

98.

Two to go.

Not the first time Joe has been this close to a century. To the result which separates good batsmen from the best.

But it would mean a bit more, today.  A slight redemption. A much-needed reassurance that he still knows how to do it, how to bat out an innings.

He concentrates again, decides on the next shot. Waits for the next delivery.

"It's just the ball, your bat, and you. Nothing else." he suddenly hears at the back of his mind. In Ali's voice (of course).

Briefly smiles at the memory.

( _It's almost as if it's you at the non-striker's end right now. I guess you're really always with me. In a way.)_

 

Another searing delivery.

No time to second-guess.

Joe aims - and even as he hears the snick of the red leather ball connecting with his bat, that unmistakeable, fantastic, almost overwhelming certainty is back.

The perfect decision. And now....

He follows the ball to the boundary with his eyes, hears Ben yell "Yes!" behind him, that special, unique applause from the stand, the cheers, the chant (THE chant).

He knows. Yes, he knows.

 

For the 16th time ( _almost 50% done.)_ Joe lets go of his nerves, his pent-up frustration, his unreserved pride, with a jump as high as he can.

Clenches his fist, lets the joy, the unique joy that only a century brings, wash over him.

Hugs Ben, takes off his helmet and kisses it, waves to the balcony.

Knows he's beaming from one ear to the other.

 

And in the middle of the chaos, the cheers and the chants, Joe (as inconspicously as he manages to) glances around the pavillion. Looks for a special pair of eyes. High up in the TMS box.

Doesn't know if he's imagined it, but he feels Ali looking down at him. Winking.

Joe winks back upstairs, feels that familiar warmth rush through him and puts his helmet back on again. Onwards and upwards. With the freedom of a century behind him.

 

The dressing room is upbeat, even happy. A welcome, sorely missed-sight. A weight seems to have dropped from their collective shoulders.

Mark and Chris take silly selfie after silly selfie with Chris' phone, entertain everybody with a running commentary on all the various funny filters on offer. "Do dog ears, Woody!" - "Only if you do one with glitter and stars, Woakesy!"

Ben tries to teach a hand stand to Jonny (and fails hilariously). And Jimmy and Stuart keep tossing one of their balls around the room, completely absorbed in one of their post-day's-play games which only make sense to the two of them.

 

Joe watches them with a fond, relieved smile.  _We're ourselves again._

 

His phone buzzes in his back pocket. Curiously, he takes it out. 

Can't hide a smile as he sees Ali's name on the screen. " **Very proud of you, lad. :-) Dinner tonight? It's on me."**

"You coming, skip?" Ben pauses in the doorway. "We're starving. And they did promise us squid for tonight."

**"Thanks. :) 7 pm in the lobby?"** Joe writes back and knows he's beaming again.

"I've got other plans, Ben." he excuses himself. "Captain stuff."

"I get it." Jos flashes him a knowing smile, side-hugs Joe. "See you upstairs when you're back."

"And tell him if he doesn't find his way to the dressing room on his own, tomorrow night, I'll fetch him myself!" Stuart adds with a grin.

 

Joe waves at everyone, quickly closes the door behind him, shoulders his kit bag and - for the first time in a while - ambles out of the pavillion, pauses to exchange a few words with some of the Windies lads.

_I'm not on my own._

_I've always got him._

_Just as he had - and still has - me._

And that's a brilliant thing to realise.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
